


Visit From The Past

by heartsdesire456



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Families of Choice, Family Feels, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 11:54:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9233999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartsdesire456/pseuds/heartsdesire456
Summary: An unexpected visit from someone from Victor's past reveals a part of Victor's life that Yuuri never knew about.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of a headcanon I have that I talked about with my friend regarding Victor's life. Hopefully I did it justice.

“I think we should get married in the spring,” Yuuri said, skating around Victor in lazy circles as he stood in the middle of the ice looking at something on his phone. They were training Yuuri’s quads and Victor was trying to get the camera on his phone to stop freezing on him so he could film Yuuri and show him what he was doing wrong on the Salchow. “In Hatsetsu, while the cherry blossoms are beautiful,” he said, doing a little twirl. “Yurio will look so cute with flower blossoms in his hair,” he said louder, looking over at where Yurio was standing at the wall drinking water.

“Fuck that,” Yurio called back. “And I’m not going to your wedding anyways, Pig.”

“Yes you will,” Yuuri said, skating over to where he was leaning. “You’ll be our flower girl,” he said, poking Yuuri’s hair where it was pulled up into a bun on top of his head to keep it out of his eyes. He was growing his hair out longer and Yuuri teased him that he was going to look like Victor when he was in Juniors sooner or later. 

“I would rather make out with Mila,” he said in disgust, then looked across the boards at Mila. “THAT WASN’T AN OFFER, YOU HORNY BITCH!” he snapped and she just saluted him.

Yuuri tutted. “Such language! My mother would have a heart attack over such foul talk in our home,” he teased, just to rile Yurio up. It was funny and he knew it didn’t really bother him. Try all he might, Yuri liked him, he knew it, he just didn’t want people to know he cared about anything or anybody. 

Yurio grunted. “Whatever, I’ll come to your stupid wedding, but I will not be a fucking flower girl. I’m not a little kid!”

As fifteen, Yuuri most definitely thought of him as a little kid, even though he tried not to treat him like one, so it made him snort. “Alright, deal,” he said, smiling at him. Yuuri didn’t bother telling him that Victor was actually torn between who to ask to be his best man, Yakov or Yuri.

“Yuuri, come on, I’ve got it!” Victor called, and Yuuri turned back just in time for the flash to go off in the middle of the ring. Victor yelped and frowned. “Uh, I thought I had it,” he said, and Yuuri tutted, shaking his head affectionately. 

He smiled at Yurio. “Sorry, I’ve got to go help my fiancé figure out what’s wrong with his phone,” he said, pushing off to skate back to Victor’s side. When he got there, he wrapped his arms around Victor’s waist, looking over his shoulder. “What’s the problem now, Vicchan?” he asked, and Victor huffed, holding the phone up.

“This stupid thing unfroze, but now the flash won’t turn off,” he muttered in frustration. “I need a new phone,” he moaned. 

Yuuri giggled, reaching around Victor to tap the settings and change the timer Victor had somehow set by accident. “There you go, try now,” he said, and Victor made a triumphant sound when the camera showed their faces.

“Oh, you fixed it!” He held it up and smiled, making Yuuri smile as well, up on his toes to be fully over Victor’s shoulder. “Amazing!” Victor said brightly as he snapped the photo. He turned to Yuuri and pecked his cheek as he took another. “You have so much balance on ice for someone so clumsy on land,” he teased, looking down at the way Yuuri stood on his tip-toes, only his ice picks touching the ice. He held the phone up again, ready to snap one more photo, only to go stiff in Yuuri’s arms suddenly and angle the phone further to the right.

“Victor?” Yuuri asked, startling when Victor yanked out of his hold, nearly letting him fall to the ice, as he spun around to look behind Yuuri, skin going rapidly pale. “What’s wrong?” Yuuri asked quickly, turning to follow his gaze, but all he saw was a woman standing at the boards, looking out onto the ice even though Yurio was clearly telling her off for interrupting a private practice.

“DO YOU NOT SPEAK RUSSIAN?!” Yurio suddenly said loudly, in English, and the woman ignored him still. “Fine, let’s see what Yakov has to say about you, then,” he said, also in English, and then stepped off the ice and grabbed his blade guards, stomping off towards Yakov’s office. 

Yuuri put a hand on Victor’s side as he saw how thin his lips were pressed. “Victor?” he asked softly, but Victor didn’t seem to notice. He skated forward, away from Yuuri, towards the woman. Yuuri followed him, though he was hesitant about it. The woman stood a bit away from the door off the ice, so Yuuri went and got off the ice, grabbing his blade guards to put on while Victor simply stopped on the ice, a solid five feet away from the woman standing at the barrier. 

“What are you doing here?” Victor asked, and Yuuri was glad he was a quick study at Russian, because this wasn’t the slow, clearly pronounced Russian everybody used for him, this was how Victor spoke to cab drivers and coffee shop baristas, slightly rushed even for how fast Russian already sounded to Yuuri. 

The woman muttered something Yuuri couldn’t hear, so he looked at her. She was tall and thin, and she had long, blond hair, almost as light as Yurio’s. She looked older than him and Victor, but probably not by much. She had an angular face and was very beautiful, almost like a model. She wore makeup that was heavy enough he couldn’t tell if it aged her or made her look younger. Her lipstick was blood red and heavy, matching her manicured nails, and her eyes were lined with black that sharply pointed at the corners of her eyes. She was dressed in a long, fur coat and heeled boots and he suddenly wondered if, perhaps, she was a ballerina like Madame Lilia. She had that same sort of look about her.

Because of all of that, he was very surprised by what she said to Victor. “I was in town and wanted to see you, Vitya,” she said, reaching a hand out towards him. Yuuri was startled when Victor physically recoiled from her, though she clearly couldn’t reach that far towards him anyways.

“You don’t deserve to call me that,” he said in a tense tone that Yuuri was entirely unfamiliar with.

“Victor,” she started, looking hurt, and he sniffed, looking away from her.

“I didn’t even know you knew where I was,” he said pointedly. “How did you know I would be here now?”

She sighed, eyes still on him. “I asked where the Russian team trains and got lucky. I planned to ask how to contact you if you weren’t here-“

“What’s going on down here?” Yakov called, and Yuuri turned back to see Yakov from his office with Yuri behind him, out of his skates now. “Why is nobody on the ice?” he asked, nodding for Yuuri to get back out there, but when Yuuri stood, he hesitated, looking at the woman, and Victor, and then back at Yakov.

Yakov clearly saw his hesitation and his attention turned more firmly to the woman. “Lady,” he called out. “This is a private practice. You aren’t meant to be here-“

Yuuri was startled when Yakov stopped walking and talking and just stared at her as she turned to face him. He looked between the woman and Victor, and then Yuuri gasped as Yakov’s face grew livid. “You are _not_ allowed here!” he snapped at her, stalking forward with purpose now. “Get away from him, Masha, or I will make you.”

“Yakov, it’s alright.” Everybody looked at Victor, who was far calmer than Yakov. Yuuri could feel the tension between Yakov and the woman – Masha – and Yuri was looking at Yakov in confusion, so Yuuri knew he wasn’t the only one. “I don’t care,” Victor said plainly. “She doesn’t matter enough to get upset over, Yakov, at your age,” he said coolly, with an obviously fake smile, the one that Victor gave when he didn’t mean what he was saying at all.

Yakov grumbled. “Vitya, are you alright?” he asked worriedly, and Victor backed away, doing a few spins with his arms out to the sides.

“I’m fine,” he said, spinning lazily.

“Who the fuck are you?” Yuri asked boldly, an eyebrow raised as he looked at her.

She turned to look at him, but Victor answered for her, stopping spinning to come lean on the boards over near where Yuuri sat. “This, Yuri, Masha Papov,” he said plainly, and the next words out of his mouth had Yuuri gasping and slapping a hand over his own mouth.

“My mother.”

Yuri’s big, green eyes grew even wider. “Holy fucking shit,” he spat, and this time, Yuuri didn’t even have it in him to make a joke about language. 

“ _Zolotse_.” Yuuri looked back to Victor, who nodded to the ice. “Come on, my phone is working, we can get back to your training,” he said, and then he didn’t wait for Yuuri as he skated back out to the center of the ice.

Yuuri had no choice but to take his blade guards back off and follow him, even though every part of him wanted to stop and listen to whatever Yakov was saying to _Victor’s mother_ now.

~

Victor was all business on the ice for the rest of the day, and he didn’t seem to want to talk even when they went home. His mother had gone sometime while they were out training, after a hushed argument with Yakov that Yuri stood by for, as far as Yuuri could see. Even at home, Victor had gone to take a nap while Yuuri cooked dinner for them both. 

He ate in almost silence, and after he finished, he said he was going to take a bath and he disappeared to the bathroom. Yuuri was only half-done eating, but after a few moments, he decided it could wait. He quickly put away his food and the leftovers, not bothering with the dishes, and instead went to the bathroom.

Victor was in the large tub, one he had specifically searched for in an apartment, he told Yuuri, big enough that he could comfortably take a long soak in it. The door had been cracked a bit, so Yuuri wasn’t surprised when Victor, whose eyes were shut as his head hung back, assumed wrongly and said, “Makkachin, I’m really not in the mood to play ‘steal papa’s clothes’,” he sighed tiredly. 

Yuuri smiled and quickly tugged off his shirt and pushed down his pants. “Good thing I’m not Makkachin, then,” he said, and Victor opened his eyes in surprise just as Yuuri stepped into the bath. 

“Yuuri?” Victor asked in confusion as Yuuri sank into the water opposite him, legs curled under himself so he didn’t get in Victor’s way. “Not that I don’t appreciate opening my eyes and finding my naked fiancé there, what are you doing?” he asked.

Yuuri shook his head. “Felt like joining you, is all,” he said simply. He took his glasses off, having forgotten them, and sat them on top of his pile of clothes on the floor. 

Victor sighed, sliding further down in the water. “ _Zolotse_ , I love you, but I’m really not in the mood,” he said tiredly.

“Who said anything about sex,” he teased mildly, taking one of Victor’s feet in his hand. Victor, being a tall man, had long, broad feet unlike Yuuri had ever seen. He gently massaged the arch of Victor’s foot, smiling when Victor moaned softly and relaxed as if he were melting down into the water. 

Victor moaned occasionally, a sleepy sound, and he slumped so far that his chin dipped into the water and his other foot rested beside Yuuri’s hip under the water and his knee bent out of the water. “You want to know, don’t you?” Victor asked softly after a while, and Yuuri hadn’t expected him to speak up.

“Not if you don’t want to talk,” Yuuri said, and he was honest. He was dying of curiosity, but Victor’s quietness all day had him worried, and he would rather deal with the curiosity than watch his fiancé become upset. 

Victor hummed, eyes still shut. He was quiet for so long Yuuri expected he had let it drop, but he spoke again. “I met my mother when I was sixteen years old,” he said, and Yuuri’s hands slipped off his foot for a moment before his brain caught up again.

“You _met_ her?” he asked slowly, wondering if maybe Victor’s mental exhaustion had his English slipping. 

Victor gave a sad smile. “Yes, met.” Victor sighed heavily, brow furrowed ab it though his eyes were still shut. “I never talk about my family because I don’t have one.” Yuuri had suspected as much, but he never wanted to poke a sore spot and address it. “Actually, I do,” he added. “I have two, even. But as far as I’m concerned, I don’t have one.” Yuuri waited patiently and eventually Victor spoke again. “I have a mother, and a father, and they both have other children. I have five siblings,” he said and Yuuri let out a weak breath.

He hadn’t expected that at all. 

“And you don’t speak to any of them?” Yuuri asked, unable to help himself.

Victor gave a weak laugh. “I don’t think my brothers and sisters know I am their brother,” he said sadly. “I only know because of the internet.” He shook his head. “Yakov is the only family I need. Yakov has been the only family I’ve wanted for the past fifteen years.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened. “You _lived_ with Yakov?” he asked, surprised. “I never thought about it, I just assumed-“

“That the great Victor Nikiforov had a home?” Victor asked in a gentle tone. “No, I had a bedroom in Yakov’s house. A tiny room with a single bed shoved between a window and a wardrobe.” He smiled. “Yuri lived there until Lilia made him and Yakov both come live with her.”

Yuuri knew Yurio’s living situation. His parents had divorced when he was small because his father was a drunk, and after that, his mother couldn’t afford to support the two of them, so Yuri went to live with his grandfather. His grandfather was the one who got Yuri into skating, and when Yuri got scouted for the Russian team way back even before he was old enough to compete in the Junior Division, Yakov had offered to let Yuri live with him in St. Petersburg and train under him for free. Yuri had been living with Yakov since he was twelve, though he visited his grandfather as often as he could. His father was out of the picture completely, but Yuri’s mother still kept in touch. She visited him every time he went home to see his grandfather, and Yuri was on good terms with her. 

He just hadn’t known Victor had once lived with Yakov first. Victor moaned some when Yuuri went back to rubbing his foot. “When I was thirteen and got chosen to represent Russia, my father was glad to finally be free of me and he bought me a one-way ticket to the city,” Victor explained. He scoffed. “My father was so glad to be rid of me. The bastard,” he said angrily. “You think Yakov is mean…”

Suddenly, Yuuri had a horrible feeling. “Did- did he- he-“

Victor opened his eyes and looked at Yuuri, only to shake his head. “No, he never beat me or anything,” he said with a comforting smile. “Don’t worry,” he said, rubbing his other foot against Yuuri’s side. “Nothing that terrible.” He sighed, shaking his head. “He was never cruel. He just never cared, either,” he said tightly. “He never wanted me. He didn’t love me. My mother dumped me on his doorstep and vanished without a trace, and he was stuck with me.” He hummed. “I’m lucky he even bothered keeping me, I guess,” he said, making a face at that. “Though, he might’ve found a better family for me, not just dumped me at an orphanage, so maybe I’m not lucky.” He shrugged. “Yakov loves me more than my father ever did, and you see how Yakov is.”

“I don’t know,” Yuuri said with a small smile. “He shouts a lot, but it’s clear he cares about you. He’s like Yuri, he doesn’t want people to realize he cares,” he said, and Victor chuckled.

“Yuri got it from Yakov, I’m sure,” he joked. He smiled sadly and shook his head. “I’m lucky to have Yakov. He’s the only father I ever really had. Yura is like a baby brother,” he said fondly. 

They sat in silence for a while before Yuuri spoke. “I just can’t believe that woman was your mother. She looked so young,” he said, shaking his head.

Victor snorted. “Well, she was fifteen when she had me, so she is young,” he said, and Yuuri’s eyes widened in shock. Victor nodded. “Why do you think she dumped me on my father’s doorstep and vanished?”

“Wow.” Yuuri shook his head. “And I thought my mother had Mari young,” he said in disbelief.

Victor frowned. “Wait, how old is your sister?” he asked, and Yuuri snickered.

“She’s thirty, you just don’t see it because you look older than her,” he teased and Victor pouted dramatically. “There, there,” Yuuri comforted, rubbing his shin. “It’s not your fault you’re European,” he teased and Victor scoffed and splashed him. 

“Wow, I didn’t know your parents married so young,” Victor mused. 

“Yep,” Yuuri said. “My mother was eighteen when my parents got married, and a year later Mari was born.” He groaned. “ _Fifteen_. Can you imagine _Yuri_ someone’s _dad_?” he asked, horrified at the thought.

Victor scoffed. “I’m pretty sure Yuri should never be someone’s dad, even when he’s thirty,” he said flatly. “But yes,” he said with a snort. “And my father was twenty, that pervert.” He waved a hand. “My mother moved to Moscow after she dumped me on my father, grew up, got married, had a whole family. You saw her clothes, her husband is rich. Her kids are eight, nine, and twelve. My father has a wife and two kids who are seven and ten.” He gestured to himself. “And there’s me. The man old enough to be the parent of every one of his siblings, using my mother’s age as a ruler there.” He sighed. “I don’t know why she showed up here. I met her when I was sixteen and I told her I never wanted to speak to her and that I didn’t care she was my mother. And I don’t,” he said tiredly, turning big, sad blue eyes on Yuuri. “I can’t blame her, not really, because God knows a fifteen year old kid has to be terrified in her situation. But I still don’t _want_ her,” he stressed. “She has a life. I have a life. There’s no need for our lives to involve each other.”

Yuuri hummed and turned around in the water, sliding back until he could lay against Victor’s chest. Victor’s arms immedicably came up to hug him and, as Yuuri had expected, Victor wrapped him up in his arms and hid his face in Yuuri’s neck for comfort. “Did you ever stop to think that, since she’s now a middle aged woman with children growing up, she might realize that even if you didn’t grow up with her, you’re still her baby just like them?” he said gently. He curled a hand around Victor’s, lifting it to kiss his palm. “I’m not saying you owe her anything, and I’m totally guessing here, since I obviously have no idea what it’s like to be a parent,” he clarified. “But you are still her son. And maybe she realizes now exactly what she missed by not being there while you grew up?”

Victor sighed, resting his lips against Yuuri’s shoulder. “Possibly. But is it so bad if I just don’t want her in my life? I can understand her feelings, and I hate being the cruel one here, but I just don’t want to bother. I don’t have to hate her to just want to go on with my life as it is.” 

“Vicchan, I don’t think that’s cruel,” Yuuri soothed, rubbing the forearms over his body underwater. “It’s still your life, and just because she has regrets doesn’t mean you have to sacrifice your own comfort for that.”

Victor grumbled. “It’s selfish, though, isn’t it?” he asked, and Yuuri hummed.

“Yes,” he said honestly. “But you know me. I’m a selfish brat,” Yuuri admitted and Victor chuckled warmly, hugging him tighter.

It wasn’t a lie, and Yuuri knew that. Yuuri always assumed he knew what was best for everybody and made selfish choices because of it. He had pushed Victor into choosing to skate again and it had almost ruined their engagement. Yuuri was better at not being selfish these days, but he still had his moments. Victor rubbed a hand along Yuuri’s stomach, kissing his neck fairly innocently for how they were naked in the bath together. “Maybe I should hear her out,” he muttered. “I know she’s rich, so she isn’t trying to get money out of me. Her intentions are likely just that, the desire to know her first child.”

Yuuri nodded. “I’m not saying embrace your estranged mother, Victor. But it can’t hurt too much to just talk to her.” He smiled. “Maybe it will go well and you’ll have a family.”

“You’re my family,” Victor said with conviction, though his voice was gentle. Yuuri opened his eyes and turned his head to meet Victor’s gaze. Victor smiled, though his eyes were solid like steel. “I have the only family I need. Yakov and Yuri are my family. Your mother and father and sister are my family.” He nudged his nose against Yuuri’s. “I’m going to be a Katsuki, too, to add to Yakov and Yuri, and that’s all the family I want.”

Yuuri felt a rush of affection and he smiled brightly. “Hmmm, Victor Katsuki-Nikiforov sounds nice,” he said and Victor smiled just as widely. 

“See? I’m not a Papov or Nikiforov, though I want to keep that since it’s always been my name,” he added. “I’m going to be a Katsuki.”

Yuuri couldn’t help wiggle excitedly. “I love you, and I can’t wait to get married,” he gushed, unable to help himself.

Victor kissed the side of his head, lips catching on the softly curling damp hair near Yuuri’s temple. “Me either,” he purred, chuckling as he slid the hand on Yuuri’s stomach down to curl around his thigh. “But you have to stop wiggling around. You’re getting something else excited,” he teased and Yuuri flushed, but bit his bottom lip as he raised his eyes to meet Victor’s. Victor’s blue eyes widened a bit when Yuuri’s dark gaze turned flirtatious and he braced a foot on the other side of the tub to grind his ass back against Victor’s crotch.

“Oh?” he whispered, sliding a hand to rest on Victor’s wrist, tugging his hand higher up the inside of his thigh. “Is that such a bad thing?” 

Once Yuuri would’ve been far too self-conscious to encourage Victor’s hands to linger on his stretch-marked inner thighs, but he’d grown to realize that Victor found him sexy, no matter how un-sexy parts of him might be, so he just shivered when Victor’s fingertips traced the grooves in his skin as Victor’s cheeks flushed and his gaze fell to Yuuri’s lips. “In the _bath_?” he asked in a low voice that made his chest rumble against Yuuri’s back.

Yuuri smirked, tipping his head further back. “It’s romantic.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “You’re always trying to get me to be more adventurous,” he reminded him.

Victor chuckled and kissed his jaw. “I can’t say I’ve ever made love in the bath,” he breathed, and Yuuri shivered and smiled.

“Just make up your mind before the water starts going cold,” he teased, and then squeaked with laughter when Victor growled and attacked his neck with kisses, clutching him tighter.

Victor wasted no time showing Yuuri just how made up his mind was.

~

When Yuuri woke up, he could hear Victor pacing in the living room, so he got out of bed to go see what was wrong. Still half-asleep, it took him a moment to realize that Victor had his phone in his hand as he paced in front of the floor to ceiling windows. Yuuri crept up behind him, brushing a hand through Makkachin’s fur as he passed where he lay on the couch, and when he got to where Victor had stopped, he curled his arms around his middle. Victor started for a moment but then relaxed, muscles releasing all their tension as he leaned back against Yuuri some. Yuuri laid his cheek against Victor’s shoulder, rubbing his face on the soft fabric of his pajamas.

He didn’t speak, he just held Victor and snuggled against his back. Victor eventually took a breath and called someone, lifting his phone to his ear. Yuuri could hear the call go to voicemail, which wasn’t surprising given how early it was. When there was a tone, Victor took a soft breath and spoke. “It’s Victor,” he said, and Yuuri could feel his tensing up again. He rubbed his tight stomach muscles and he relaxed again. “Look, I- I already have a family, and I don’t need another one.” He paused for just a second before moving on. “But if- if you’re ever in St. Petersburg and want to get coffee, I’m-“ He sighed, dropping his head some. “I’m willing to listen if you ever want to talk. You can always get me at this number, so- so call me if you ever want to,” he said, and then he hung up the phone.

Yuuri still said nothing, but he continued to hold Victor, trying to absorb as much of Victor’s tension with the strength of his hug. After Yuuri had no idea how long, Victor tossed his phone onto the chair and curled his hands over Yuuri’s on his stomach, tipping his head to the side to rest against Yuuri’s as he laced their fingers together and rubbed Yuuri’s ring with his thumb.

Together, they watched the sun rise over the buildings of the city around them.


End file.
